


All You Had To Do Was Ask

by raendown



Series: NaNoWriMo 2020 Drabbles [74]
Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 14:54:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21430051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/pseuds/raendown
Summary: Madara was either angry or embarrassed and Hashirama can't decide which but the difference could mean everything.
Relationships: Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara
Series: NaNoWriMo 2020 Drabbles [74]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1533161
Comments: 18
Kudos: 137





	All You Had To Do Was Ask

After the incident Hashirama took several days to mull over his friend’s reaction, picking it apart from every angle the way he knew his brother would. Tobirama often thought of things that he failed to see for himself and right now he wanted to be sure there was nothing he had possibly missed. This was too important to get it wrong. Madara had been his friend for almost a lifetime and the thought of messing that up somehow, even if it was in the name of taking a chance at another secret dream, it twisted his stomach in to knots that only unraveled in the presence of the same man who put them there.

In the end there were only so many conclusions he could draw and Hashirama was down to two possible answers. Either Madara had gone red because he was upset to lose three spars in a row, cheeks flushed with nothing more than anger, or he’d been embarrassed to lay pinned on his back with all four limbs bound by Mokuton. And the only reason Madara ever got embarrassed was when he was trying to hide the fact that he had enjoyed something.

But which was it?

The time he took to decide between his two options was a period of sweet agony for Hashirama. It felt much like walking on a tightrope and not knowing whether losing his balance would mean hurling himself in to a pit of angry vipers or falling in to his wildest dreams. So close and yet still so far from everything he’d never admitted to anyone that he wanted. Lots of people knew, of course. Hashirama was self-aware enough to know that he wasn’t exactly subtle about his feelings. But he’d never given them voice to the one who mattered most.

“Where are those letters we were supposed to send back to the capital?” Madara's voice startled him in to knocking over his good set of brushes and Hashirama let out a small cry as his thoughts were interrupted.

“Ah! Sorry! I know they’re here somewhere!” Rummaging through the mounds of paperwork on his messy desk was a perfect excuse to hide the flush rising on his own cheeks as the memory lingered of pretty red splashed across Madara's nose.

“Gods, how do you ever find anything in that heap?”

Since that sounded like more of a rhetorical question than anything else Hashirama peeked up through the hair dangling in his face, trying to gauge his friend’s real mood. They hadn’t really spoken since The Incident on the training fields. He’d missed the other man but he’d wanted to figure things out so he didn’t make a fool of himself if it wasn’t necessary.

Now that they were staring at each other across the room, however, he realized that he had wasted all that time worrying over nothing. This feeling inside of him was too big; he knew he was going to ask whether it was a good idea or not.

“While I’m looking for the letters can I ask you something?” he began softly.

“Knock yourself out.”

“Do you think maybe…would you ever be interested…I would like it very much if we could go to dinner some time!”

Madara eyed him askance. “We have dinner together all the time.”

“Yes, that’s true, but I meant…” Hashirama fiddled his fingers together, trying to find the words. If there was anything he knew about this man it was that wording things wrong always ended with yelling.

“If you’re asking what I think you’re asking then you’d best make a better job of it or the answer is no.”

Head shooting up, he stared at his friend with eyes so wide they nearly fell right out of their sockets. Madara was refusing to look at him but he hadn’t turned away and that beautiful blush was splashed across his nose again just like it had been on the training fields. Images rose unbidden of this gorgeous creature on his back, flushed and panting and bound with Hashirama's own jutsu, and the memory was so enticing that the words fell out of his mouth with no more thought and little grace.

“Please go on a date with me! I want us to have so much more between us!” Hashirama bit his lip and froze, nervously awaiting his answer.

“Fine. You’re paying. And- and you better dress nice! Not that I care!” Madara harrumphed and came forward to shove one hand under the messy piles of paperwork, unerringly snatching up the letters he had come for like he’d known where they were all along. “S’not like I’ve been waiting on you to get your head out of your ass or anything,” he mumbled with a distinctively defensive tone.

“Oh _Madara_!”

With one last warning look to keep a lid on his emotions Madara spun and stomped out of the office again, leaving Hashirama to melt back in to his chair with a dreamy expression. He was glad he’d taken the chance he’d been so afraid of. Everything had worked out just fine.

Now all he had to do was pick the perfect restaurant and decide which flowers he should bring on their very first date. Madara might fuss and try to reject them but Hashirama knew how much his most precious friend truly enjoyed the attention – and he was more than happy to give Madara all the attention he wanted for the rest of their lives. It was all he’d ever dreamed of. 


End file.
